Prisoner of War
by Starsong
Summary: In the fight for freedom, despair is the greater enemy. A young doctor battles it in her patients, but soon finds herself as much a victim as they.


Pre-Strike Force, during the invasion 

* * *

  
**Prisoner of War**

Lila curled up on the bed, closing her eyes kneading her hands in the sheet, still feeling as if they were caked with blood. She felt sick. They lost so many every day, so many that she couldn't save. No one could have saved them. 

No one, except the ancient horrors that had caused this atrocity. Her father had worked all his life to keep Puckworld a peaceful planet, and for what. So that the monster lizards that hid in the closets of young children could come crashing through the comforting barrier between nightmares and terrible reality. Memories of blood and death reeled through her head, replayed in perfect detail, and each drop of blood that fell screamed for mercy, for life, and finally for vengeance. The drops joined into a river of crystal tears, mourning the loss of a life and a planet and the sense of security that would take centuries to regain. 

Every inch of ground they regained would be paid for in the blood of dedicated Puckworlders, those that had not lost the spirit of their ancestors, the ones who would not be slaves and lackeys to a race that had committed such heinous crimes against them in the past. They were punished once, they would be punished again. 

'Is it worth the price to punish them?' The thought was madness, almost treasonous, but Lila was heartsick, tired, emotionally drained, and vulnerable to her own fears. For a moment she teetered on the edge, wondering if it wouldn't be better to surrender and survive anyway they could. It hurt, it hurt her deeply to watch soldiers she had helped heal walk into danger again and not come back. She had healed them only so they would suffer for a while longer before death ravaged them, laughing in her face as she stood helpless. No matter how many times she saved them, death would find them in the end, death for all those soldiers that confided in her, that trusted her to see them through. 

'I'm a doctor, I'm supposed to preserve life. How does this help? How many people are killed each day because we still fight? How many ordinary people, fighting because it was all they could think of to do? How many prisoners, dying in the work camps that created weapons used to kill the resistance fighters?' The redundancy of the idea brought hysterical laughter her ears, raw and throaty. 

"What is life without purpose? There is more to life than breath, Lila Marie. More to breath than breathing. More to you than flesh and feathers. More to Puckworld than ice and snow." Her father's voice was so real in her head that she could have sworn she heard him speak out loud. 

"Dedication. Service. Courage." Lila recited the motto of the Puckworld Civil Service to herself, clinging to it as if it were the last shred of sanity left to her. "Sacrifice..." she faltered, forcing the rest out. "For those who came before us, and those who will follow." 

She forced herself up, the weight that blanketed her, against the pressure that wanted her to curl up and sleep, sleep so she could forget, so she could run away from this horrible reality into the safety of a seductive, dreamless sleep. She slid off the bed and stood, studying the face in the mirror that so many looked to for comfort, the face of the woman that gave so much of herself to the people she treated, and dared not ask for a morsel of their courage to keep her moving forward. They needed it so much more. 

So she straightened her hair and composed her face, and when she walked out of her doors, she was once again the young lady doctor with the pleasant smile, the one who always remembered everyone's name and would sit for hours listening to their troubles. Appearances were so important for morale. Important to keep them cheerful until they walked smiling into their deaths. 

She passed through the medical ward as quickly as she could, her eyes fixed on the unmarked steel door that was her destination. Again she stifled a hysterical giggle. Irony seemed to permeate her life lately. Where did the healer go when she needs comfort? To a dying man...then again, weren't they all, in the end, dying men? 

"Gaylan?" she murmured, standing in the doorway. She stepped inside, letting it shut behind her. 

The man in the bed smiled tiredly at her and waved her in. His grey feathers were ragged, his black hair limp against his forehead. Lila went slowly to his bedside as he reached over to the control panel by his bed and turned up the soft overhead lighting. There were other beds in the room, but they were all mercifully empty at the moment. Most people avoided this room. The only ones who came here were the ones without hope. The ones the death had marked but not yet claimed. This room was a tomb for the living. 

There was no self-pity in the eyes of the man she had failed--they'd all failed him. When she looked into his dark eyes, all she saw was sympathy. Not for himself, but for others. For her. The hope he could not keep for himself, he kept for others. For her. 

She kept her facade of calm until she reached his bedside. Then his hand folded over hers, and she sank into the chair by the bed. 

"Rough day?" he said knowingly, his voice soft but strong. 

"I don't know how much longer I can keep this up, Gaylan," she whispered. "We lose more people every day. And I'm so afraid we're doing more harm than good...there's so much damage whenever we fight a battle..." 

"And what of the damage if we stop fighting?" he pointed out. "There are two kinds of peace, Lila. The Saurian's peace can be just as bloody as war." 

"Why are we fighting this alone?" Lila hissed in frustration. "For years my father worked to insure peace with the systems around us--*why* haven't they come to help?" 

"You know that as well as I do," Gaylan said without a hint of reproach. "They're scared. The Saurians are the embodiment of evil for everyone in this sector. We face our fear because we are forced too. Your parents were offworld when we were attacked?" 

"Yes." 

"Then I know that your father is working as hard as he can to show our allies that the Saurians won't be content with just taking Puckworld, that they must be before they can build a power base. Whether or not he succeeds, we can't just lay down and give up. Those people may not feel responsible for us, but you and I know better than that. If we give up, we're not just surrendering our world and freedom, we will be helping Dragaunus destroy the hope and freedom of a thousand other worlds." 

Lila closed her eyes against the truth of his words, against the bitterness and anger that came with it. Tears gathered on her dark lashes. Gaylan squeezed her hand. 

"You're strong enough to face this, Lila. And you're strong enough to do it without me, when the time comes." 

"No!" Fear welled up inside her and hardened like a rock in her stomach. "Gaylan..." 

"Lila." 

The denial caught in her throat. He knew the truth. She was the one who didn't want to believe it. 

"Go on now," he let go of her hand. "You go get some rest. I'll be around a while longer." 

Lila sighed and stood, feeling a sudden calm descend over her. The frightening thing was, she couldn't tell if it was acceptance, or apathy. Was she just too tired to care anymore? 

'Never,' she thought, touching Gaylan's hand with a faint smile. "Thank you," she sighed. "I don't mean to burden you with my problems." 

"As long as you're carrying our loads," Gaylan half-smiled, "It's an honor for me to share yours." 

"Some honor," Lila snorted. Gaylan grinned and waved her toward the door. 

"Go sleep. You always get sarcastic when you're tired." 

"What brought you to that ridiculous--I mean stunning--conclusion?" Lila asked, walking toward the exit. 

Gaylan chuckled. "Call it a field study. Now beat it!" 

"Sure," Lila shook her head as she left, "Throw me out why don't you." 

Gaylan rolled his eyes and watched her go. She stopped at the door and offered him a sad smile before it closed behind her. 

'So this is it,' she thought as she walked by her quarters, the pleasant look once more pasted on her face. 'This is the best I can do. Surrounded by possibilities, and this is as good as it gets.' 

"The choices of one man don't shape the future alone, love," her mother's gentle voice rang in her ears. "Your choices are affected by the choices of others, and your choices will affect the choices of everyone that comes after you." 

"The choices of one man don't shape the future alone, love," her mother's gentle voice rang in her ears. "Your choices are affected by the choices of others, and your choices will affect the choices of everyone that comes after you." 

'What, then, mother? Am I supposed to let fate lead me by the beak? It wasn't my choice to start this war, and there's no choice I can make to stop it. It just rages around me, and no matter what I do, I can't escape it...I can't escape..." Lila curled up on her bed and cried herself to sleep. 


End file.
